The Carp:
"Make some commune in your studio
Follow behind, chanting face to body . . . "
Naughty Drunk:
"Soft and sad, how hard to know,
how Monstrous!
Carp us down. . .
We men are done."
The Dead:
"A marvelous age of mildew grows.
Move! I never need some sweet reason . . .
. . . but make true measure."
Wretch:
"Whose free toss will blood some dust?
Delight them! . . . Run married rascal!
Your stance sure could seek some sharp dirty old woman.
Speak out to form a young society."
Daddy:
"Such memories confront Mama!"
Stranger:
"Please blast your breath, greasily drawn
Thou would live electric . . .
I'll better pair hype, I won't ever play or strum, to relate
A bird sees no phobia -
Hey! A saucy psychedelic crowd!
My mind is almost like some edge . . .
Let yourself make some nerve with will.
God knows my dance will end up less bitter."
Dry Cunning Leader:
"What pain she mouthed!
You'll sleep less, see bold pictures in the air!
Some memory thing will reverse our number.
So clot, feel mouth, butt, stale,
but when despair gets you down,
. . . Duh!. . way down,
Then chisel your grip!
And so, start as a sculpture, and believe!
Use her sibling . . . . always dazzle.
Express, get reason
The date is risky, sweep away your wants.
Understand sense, esteem!"
Most Overbearing Whip:
"The ancient question they choose to call a finger.
Aesthetically, I thought, "The fool is classy"
If they attack, . . . they hate her
Committed in awe to some windward fool,
Cuckolds about and through,
Giving life to the dish."
Hollow Slippery Toad:
"Notorious perfect serpent!
Have respect! Beautify my Death."
Fellow Minion:
"Introduce coward, how she licked thee!
As a cat around our open obsessive work."
October 10, 2007, with Natasha Romanova, 79, 80, 81
The Muse Poems:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Naughty Drunk:
"Soft and sad, how hard to know,
how Monstrous!
Carp us down. . .
We men are done."
The Dead:
"A marvelous age of mildew grows.
Move! I never need some sweet reason . . .
. . . but make true measure."
Wretch:
"Whose free toss will blood some dust?
Delight them! . . . Run married rascal!
Your stance sure could seek some sharp dirty old woman.
Speak out to form a young society."
Daddy:
"Such memories confront Mama!"
Stranger:
"Please blast your breath, greasily drawn
Thou would live electric . . .
I'll better pair hype, I won't ever play or strum, to relate
A bird sees no phobia -
Hey! A saucy psychedelic crowd!
My mind is almost like some edge . . .
Let yourself make some nerve with will.
God knows my dance will end up less bitter."
Dry Cunning Leader:
"What pain she mouthed!
You'll sleep less, see bold pictures in the air!
Some memory thing will reverse our number.
So clot, feel mouth, butt, stale,
but when despair gets you down,
. . . Duh!. . way down,
Then chisel your grip!
And so, start as a sculpture, and believe!
Use her sibling . . . . always dazzle.
Express, get reason
The date is risky, sweep away your wants.
Understand sense, esteem!"
Most Overbearing Whip:
"The ancient question they choose to call a finger.
Aesthetically, I thought, "The fool is classy"
If they attack, . . . they hate her
Committed in awe to some windward fool,
Cuckolds about and through,
Giving life to the dish."
Hollow Slippery Toad:
"Notorious perfect serpent!
Have respect! Beautify my Death."
Fellow Minion:
"Introduce coward, how she licked thee!
As a cat around our open obsessive work."
October 10, 2007, with Natasha Romanova, 79, 80, 81
The Muse Poems:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
